


Summer Heat

by yourfriendlyneighborhoodanon



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, High-School, M/M, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourfriendlyneighborhoodanon/pseuds/yourfriendlyneighborhoodanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and his pet hedgehog Phil just moved from England to Australia where heat and boredom are driving Tom insane. They meet a new neighbor, Chris, who just might have the cure for Tom’s heatstroke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [townpariah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/townpariah/gifts).



> I haven't specified exactly how old Tom is, but he's at least close to 18.

 

Hedgehogs and Ice Cubes

It was the middle of summer, and Tom was more bored than he had ever been in his life. So bored that he cleaned the whole house before he realized there was no point because no one was coming over. He sat at the slightly battered kitchen table and ran his fingers over the fresh little knife scars from his over-enthusiastic vegetable chopping. He let his head lean over the back of the kitchen chair, stretching his neck until he almost couldn't breathe. His mother called him "her little giraffe," because of his long neck and skinny legs and his mop of stubbornly bouncy blonde curls.  
  
Tom rolled his head to the side and looked at the door in the vain hope that someone would decide to come in and admire his cleaning skills. He gave a disgusted sigh and huffed a warm breath to jostle his hair out of his face without having to move. It was far too hot to sit here and too hot to go out. He was going to set up the dusty fan that he found in the attic earlier but the plug was bent and it wouldn't turn on.  
  
Tom rolled himself off the chair and staggered to the refrigerator, the heat making his head swim. He needed to cool down. He basked in the cold air from the freezer for a minute, hanging his head almost all the way into the icebox and tugging at the neck of his ratty grey t-shirt so the cool air could go between the sticky fabric and his skin. There was nothing in the freezer except some frozen bread slices from last month and a bag of mixed fruit. Tom picked up the fruit but dropped it when he saw that it had melted at some point and the thick red liquid had congealed all over the bag. He'd have to go out if he wanted something cold.  
  
Before he left he jogged upstairs to check on Phil. Philip had been a present from his mother. Although she didn't say so Tom thought it was probably one of those "teach your child responsibility with a pet" things. He soon discovered that keeping a hedgehog was a lot of responsibility. And it was not always a responsibility he relished. Since he still lived at home his mum usually ended up cleaning Philip's fish-tank home, and she fed him as often as not, but still. She complained about the smell of his food too, but Tom ignored it. She was gone for the next week anyway so for the time being the responsibility was all his.  
  
Tom couldn't believe his mum had left so soon. He knew it was on a business trip, but they had just moved to this giant, dusty country and she left him there all alone. With just a stupid hedgehog and the phone number of her cousin in Melbourne for company. They didn't even live anywhere near Melbourne so he didn't know how that was supposed to help. If he was bitten by a scorpion or attacked by a kangaroo what was he supposed to do then? He wasn't even sure if there were scorpions in Australia, but he was plenty sure there were kangaroos. He hadn't actually seen one, but he knew they were around somewhere.  
  
Tom went up to Philip's tank and reached in for his little friend. Phil had a bad habit of biting when he was cranky (which was most of the time) but there was one thing he excelled at: picking up girls. Or at least getting them to come over and say “aww.”  
  
Tom decided to take his spiky pet with him on a trip to the grocery store for cold drinks and ice. Maybe there would be some other hapless individual out in this unbearable heat. Phil grunted and bit Tom's thumb when he carefully scooped up the little ball of spines from where was sleeping in the corner on some shredded newspaper bits. Tom shook his hand and grimaced, carrying Phil in the crook of his arm and hoping it was worth the trouble.  
  
There was a small corner grocery shop just a few blocks down the street, but in the oppressive heat it felt like miles. He bought an ice-lolly which he ate immediately, an oversized bag of ice, and several bottles of temporarily cold lemon tea. He was flushed from the heat and the exertion of trying to hold Phil gently in one hand and his rather heavy groceries in the other. He was almost back to the house when the sound of a screen door slamming in the heavy quiet of the street made him startle and drop the bag. He realized he was clutching Phil a little more tightly than he meant to when the creature tried its level best to bite him everywhere it could reach.  
  
When Tom looked up again there was a man standing there. He was taller than Tom by at least a few inches, and although it was hard to tell his age he had to be at least a couple years older as well. He looked like an adult at any rate. And he was built like a statue, wide in the shoulders and narrow in the waist, and the muscles of his arms stretched out the thin sleeves of his t-shirt. His hair was light brown fading to golden blond in the front where the sun had bleached it and it fell over his forehead in a neat little curl. There was a dusting of beard across his jaw. Everything about him seemed in contrast with Tom's slim, almost girlish figure and the fluffy curls he could never really control. Not to mention his distinct lack of facial hair.  
  
Tom stood there blinking for a second while he tried to figure out if this man could actually be real. Were all Australians so handsome?  
  
"Are you alright?" He seemed concerned and Tom realized he had been standing there staring with his groceries spread all over the oven-hot pavement.  
  
"Ah, yeah, I'm fine. I'll just, get these." Tom tried to lean over to pick the bottles and bags up off the ground, but Phil chose that moment to launch a renewed attack on Tom's thumb. Tom sort of juggled him from hand to hand trying not to get bitten.  
  
The man threw his head back and laughed. It made him seem a little younger, a little less intimidating. Tom liked his laugh, it was open and somehow he thought he could detect a hint of the Aussie accent in it. Tom scrunched up his nose and laughed too, inwardly kicking himself for thinking bringing Phil along would be a good idea. He was such a dork, and now people knew it already. He had hoped to seem a little cooler, at least for a while.  
  
The man smiled and held out his hand, before realizing both of Tom's hands were occupied in not getting bitten. He shrugged and gave a little half-wave instead. "I'm Chris by the way. I think we're neighbors. I'm assuming you're the one that moved in next door?" He gestured with his thumb to Tom's house, which didn’t seem to be technically next door although Tom didn’t know where exactly Chris had appeared from.  
  
“Ouch. Yeah, that’s me. Well, my mum and me. But she’s gone right now.” Tom pursed his lips in what he hoped was a ‘well, I don’t really care’ sort of expression. “Business trip, you know.” He shrugged. Phil had finally calmed down and was snuffling quietly at Tom’s fingers instead of chewing on them.  
  
Chris nodded his head towards the hedgehog. “Well I was going to ask if your hedgie bit but I guess I don’t need to.”  
  
Tom laughed and stroked Phil gingerly behind his tiny ears. Phil curled up into a sullen ball.  “Do you have one?” He looked over at Chris hopefully. Usually people asked rhetorically ‘is that a hedgehog?’ when they saw him. And every once in awhile someone asked whether he was real. But Chris seemed familiar with them, although he was looking at Phil with a slightly amused and skeptical expression.  
  
Chris shrugged. “No, but my little brother does.” He leaned over to peer at Phil, who made a loud grunt and wiggled around apparently trying to bite Chris’s nose. Tom held him more firmly while attempting not to squish him. Phil hated that. Chris pulled his face into an ironic grimace and straightened up. “Liam’s is a little less... uh... aggressive.” Phil snorted and went back to hiding his pointy face with his spines.  
  
Tom cradled Phil protectively, silently hoping that he wasn’t getting mentally grouped with Chris’s little brother now. “Well, I don’t bite anyway.”  
  
“Good to know. Do you have a name?” Chris bent over and picked up the bag of ice. It left a damp patch on the ground and the plastic was sweating almost as much as Tom was. Chris tucked it under a thick arm and chased after one of the bottles that had rolled across the pavement. Chris wiped it on his shorts and Tom couldn’t help but notice how the dampness made the light fabric stick to the skin of his thigh.    
  
“Tom. Uh, Tom Hiddleston. I’m from England.” He had started appending his country of origin because he got sick of it being the first thing everyone asked him. But Chris didn’t ask any follow-up questions for which Tom was secretly glad. He was tired of explaining where he came from and why he had moved from London to the middle of nowhere Australia.  
  
He transferred Phil as best he could to one hand and hopped over the curb to pick up the rest of his things from the street. He didn’t want Chris to be fetching everything, so he bent over quickly to grab the other iced tea, which turned out to be a mistake. As he bent over Tom’s head went all fuzzy and his vision started to fade in and out. He stumbled a little and fell forward, arms flung out too late to stop himself. There was a moment of lurching terror but he was brought up short by a tight grip on his arm. Somehow Chris had managed to stride over and catch him before he hit the ground.  
  
“Whoa!” Tom wavered and tried to blink the world back into focus. He wished the street would stop spinning so much. His knees were wobbly and Chris was basically holding him up with one hand clamped around his upper arm. He was reeling back and forth a bit and if Chris let go he would probably fall over again. He blinked some more and steadied himself by propping himself up on his thigh, other hand curled around Phil’s prickly body. His brain was muzzy, but Tom took a moment to admire Chris’s casual strength. He didn’t even seem to be trying very hard but he was supporting most of Tom’s (admittedly slight) weight.  
  
Tom shook his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, just got a little lightheaded.” Chris was still holding his arm and Tom was flustered to realize that Chris’s single hand went almost entirely around his bicep. Tom was standing up now and only swaying a little but Chris didn’t release him yet. They were standing shoulder to shoulder and looking over Tom realized they weren’t that different in height after all, Chris was only an inch or two taller than him at best, although he certainly was broader.  
  
Tom felt sick.  
  
Chris put a heavy, warm hand on Tom’s back as he leaned over again with a quiet ‘ooh,’ hugging Phil to his chest and trying not to pass out.  
  
“Ahh, Tom you’ve been out in the heat too long. Let’s get you inside, all right?”  
  
Tom made a vague wave in the direction he assumed Chris was in. “No, no, it’s ok. I don’t want to bother you.”  
  
“No, it’s fine. I was just doing laundry anyway, I’m glad for an excuse.”  
  
Tom took a deep breath and straightened up with only a slight wobble. He held out his hand placatingly and Chris gingerly let go of his arm and relinquished the tea but held onto the bag of ice. Phil was sulking but at least he was holding still, nestled in the crook of Tom’s arm. Tom turned himself all the way around to find his own house and set off briskly with Chris trailing behind him. It was only a couple blocks but as soon as he had gone two yards he walked into a patch of sunlight reflecting off a parked car. Tom was blindsided by the fresh wave of heat that hit him like a door slamming. He scrunched his eyes closed for just a second and he was falling over again. This time he caught himself, but Chris had followed him and was looking on with a decidedly entertained expression.  
  
“Look, Tom you’re going to get heat stroke. Here.” Chris put the ice cubes in the paper bag, patted Tom’s arm wrapped around it then stepped back and looked him up and down appraisingly. “You’re not half the size of my little brother.”  
  
Tom was getting ready to be offended and opened his mouth to make a cutting remark. Chris just patted Tom’s arms wrapped around the groceries and Phil and said “Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think you’ll last out here by yourself.”  
  
Before Tom could make any sense of the remark Chris bent his knees and scooped him up with one hand under his shoulders and the other at his knees. Tom kicked his feet but he couldn’t do much more without disturbing Phil who stirred wrathfully and seemed to sense something was off. He ended up clutching the cold ice to his chest with his legs dangling hilariously over Chris’s muscled arms.  
  
Tom’s face was slightly squished into Chris’s firm chest and he felt like such a baby even though Chris wasn’t that much larger than him.  
  
“Hey! Excuse me, put me down, I can walk!” Tom flailed his long limbs again in protest. Chris just hefted him with ease and jostled Tom slightly to balance their weight. When Chris showed no signs of putting him down and started walking towards the house Tom gave in, sagging in Chris’s arms and choking with embarrassed laughter.  
  
Chris was trying hard to hide his own amusement. He put on a serious face but the corners of his mouth kept pulling up into a smile. He adjusted his hands under Tom’s arms by almost tossing him up to reposition. Tom squawked indignantly as Chris scolded him.  
  
“No you can’t walk. I watched you fall over twice in a row. I’m not going to stand here while you die of heat stroke. What kind of welcome would that be eh?”  
  
“I do feel a little dizzy.” Tom admitted sheepishly. “It’s that one.” He pointed with his chin to the house and added “Tally ho then!”  
  
It was still awkward being carried around like a child, but there was no one in the street to see them, and he had almost collapsed twice. And Tom admitted to himself that Chris’s arms were sort of nice wrapped around him. Chris deposited him carefully on the top of his porch steps and chuckled, not even winded.  
  
Tom stood and rubbed one foot with the other. He sucked his lips into his mouth and examined the peeling paint on the doorframe. “Well, thanks, I guess...” He wanted to invite Chris inside, but he didn’t want to be weird about it. The fact that Chris had carried him home like he was a drunk or a small child was already weird enough.    
  
“Are you here all by yourself? You gonna be OK there Tom? Just close the windows and turn on the air conditioner and you’ll be fine.” Chris licked his lips and lingered halfway up the steps. Tom hoped it meant he didn’t want to leave and not that he thought Tom was an idiot who couldn’t take care of himself.  
  
“Yeah, it’s just me. And Phil.” Phil was still curled up in a spiky ball. Tom had the feeling that he was going to emerge and resume biting at any moment, but he didn’t want to chase Chris away to put Phil in his cage. He felt pathetic standing on the doorstep of his own house still a little woozy from the heat, holding desperately onto his hedgehog and a slowly tearing paper bag. “Yeah, well the AC is the first in a long list of things we haven’t gotten fixed yet. Mum—my mother said she’d call someone to fix it but she forgot to do it before she left. She’ll be back... Tuesday?” Tom wanted to pick at the sliver of paint coming off near the door handle but both his hands were still occupied.  
  
“Hm. It’s going to be hot all week.” Chris looked concerned. He was still standing with one foot on the bottom step, but he seemed like he might be about to leave. Tom knew in a minute the awkward silence would bloom into goodbyes. It was at that moment Phil decided he’d had enough and tried to scramble out of Tom’s arms and escape. Tom caught him awkwardly but the soggy grocery bag gave up the ghost and ripped from the bottom up.  
  
Tom hung his head theatrically as the iced tea clinked down the steps to rest against Chris’s foot. He looked up at Chris, one eyebrow cocked in faux misery. For a minute they just stared at each other. Then Chris smiled, Tom smiled, and soon they were both laughing like loons. Tom doubled over and held his stomach. Phil took the opportunity to bite him again but Tom was too out of breath from laughter and heat to do more than wince. “Oh god. Today is not my day. I feel like I’m melting and I’ve only half a thumb left.”  
  
Chris’s chuckles subsided and he picked up the ice and the tea again. He looked around helplessly. “Well I can’t guarantee results, but I suppose I could come in and have a look at the AC if you’d like. I’m not a wizard or anything but I am pretty handy.”  
  
“Yeah! I mean yeah. That would be great, if you don’t mind. I think I might actually die if i don’t get some cold air.” Tom retreated up the steps and swung the door open with his elbow.  
  
Chris followed hesitantly and stopped in the doorway. “Would your... mother mind you think? My coming over like this?” He seemed to be having second thoughts, leaning his head through the doorway but not stepping into the kitchen. “I mean I could be planning to steal something or... I don’t know murder you or something.”  
  
Tom snorted. “You don’t seem like the murdering type. It’s fine, come on in, she won’t care. In fact if you can fix the AC she’ll think you’re a god.” Tom had continued into the kitchen as he talked. Chris hovered in the doorway for a second before following Tom inside.  
  
Tom stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor and turned dramatically, free arm sweeping over his handiwork. The kitchen was shining like a new car. Tom was pretty sure he’d never cleaned anything that thoroughly in his life.  
  
Chris raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. He seemed to be searching for the right compliment for the situation. He settled on “It’s so clean!” with a hopeful glance.  
  
Tom grinned and bowed. “Thank you, thank you. I’ve had nothing else to do in this godforsaken town... Uh, no offense.” He realized belatedly that he had no idea what Chris thought of the town, if he grew up there, if he hated it. In fact, other than his name and the fact that he lived nearby (about which he could conceivably be lying) Tom knew almost nothing about him. All he knew was the way Chris could carry him around effortlessly, the way his light shorts crinkled around his thighs, and the way his voice sounded a little bit soft and rough when he said “Tom.” Maybe he really was a murderer. Wouldn’t that just be perfect. He probably was just friendly and a little clueless and not interested in boys anyway. Not that Tom was either. Well, usually not.  
  
Phil started wiggling around in Tom’s arms, sticking his prickles into the soft hollow of Tom’s elbow. “God, Phil calm down!” Tom winced and deposited Phil summarily in his small kitchen cage. He didn’t like to be alone, so Tom kept a small hamster cage in the kitchen where Phil could sit and keep his mum company while she cooked or wrote company reports on her laptop. Some days Phil liked it there and some days he waddled around and scratched at the glass with his spines.  
  
Chris smiled. “Doesn’t like to be alone, huh? My brother Liam’s got one too. A hedgehog I mean. He likes to sit around while we’re watching TV. Yours seems a little testy though.” He peered into the fishtank at Phil who was methodically shredding his newspaper bedding and spreading the scraps around in his water dish.  
  
Tom shrugged. “Yeah... he usually doesn’t bite that much. He’s really quite friendly.” That was only half a lie. Phil usually liked girls and would never bite them. Tom’s mum was his favorite.  
  
“Do you want to hold him?”  
  
Chris peered through narrowed eyes at the hedgehog’s busy teeth tearing newspaper bits off with relish. “Nah, I’m good thanks.” Chris tapped lightly on the glass and Phil scuttled over to the spot.  
  
“Look, I think he likes you!” Tom couldn’t help noticing that each one of Chris’s long fingers was as large as Phil’s head. Tom wondered if Chris worked with his hands, because his fingers were rough but clean and the nails slightly bitten down.  
  
“I dunno, I think he’s trying to eat me.” Chris said, balefully eyeing Phil who was sniffing at the glass, beady eyes shining.  
  
Tom bounced over. “No, look he just wants to be friends!” He grinned and stood as close as he could to Chris without seeming like he was trying to. Phil grunted aggressively and attacked the glass near Chris’s hand.  
  
Tom giggled awkwardly and pulled a face. “Ah, well, maybe he just needs a little time to get used to you or something...”  
  
Chris stood up and looked around and Tom remembered that he had invited him inside to fix the air conditioner. “Oh, uh, it’s over here.” He gestured to the stubbornly silent AC unit wedged in the bottom half of the window. Chris put the tea down on the corner of the kitchen table and tossed the bag of ice at the counter before he ambled over to peer at it. Tom tried to pretend he wasn’t watching Chris’s ass when he bent over to examine the mysterious workings of the AC.  
  
“Hmm, I’ll need to open it up to see what’s wrong. You have a screwdriver handy Tom?” Tom’s stomach jumped a little bit at the familiar way Chris addressed him without turning. He tried to assure himself that it was par for the course for handsome Australian men in stranger’s kitchens. Unfortunately Tom had no idea if they even owned a screwdriver, much less where it would be if they did. He opened some drawers at random, picking up and discarding a tin opener, several mismatched spoons of varying sizes, and something that looked like it came out of a blender before giving it up as a bad job.  
  
“Sorry, we don’t seem to have one. Or I suppose I don’t know where it is. It’s probably lost in one of our hundreds of unpacked boxes actually.” There were really only 2 or 3 unpacked boxes, but that wasn’t a very good excuse. Tom ran a hand through his messy curls, which were sticking out even more than usual with the heat. He was feeling a little lightheaded again but didn’t want to admit it.  
  
He sighed shallowly and wandered over to where the ice was sitting in a slowly growing pool of water. Chris was pulling and prodding at the AC to no visible effect. Tom ran a finger through the cool melt, feeling the little dips and scratches in the countertop underneath. Most of them had been there when they moved in, evidence of someone else’s life lived in this house. Tom wondered if Chris had known the people who lived here before him. He drew a little pattern with the water, dragging it in loops and squiggles over the off-white counter. When it became more of a puddle than a pattern he put the flat of his palm in it and then dragged the dampness over his forehead.  
  
Tom started when he realized he was being watched. Chris was leaning one arm on the defunct AC and watching Tom intently. Tom crinkled up his nose and laughed quietly, wiping the rest of the water away with the back of his arm. Chris’s unwavering gaze was a bit unnerving but he seemed to be thinking about something else even as he stared at Tom.  
  
Chris shook himself slightly and smiled, breaking the long moment of silence. “Sorry, but you, ah, you look a little sunburned.”  
  
“Oh? Oh, yeah. I guess I’m not really used to this Australian climate.” Tom laughed awkwardly and tugged the neck of his t-shirt back over from where it had slipped to the side, exposing a pale line of unburned skin against the red on his shoulder. He fanned himself theatrically and leaned back against the counter in an attempt at casual coolness. “It’s still awfully hot in here.”  
  
Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything with the AC without my tools. Even then I’m not sure I can fix it.” He shrugged and looked over at Tom out of the corner of his eye. “You need to cool down though, you’re still looking like you might keel over.” He was right, and it wasn’t any cooler in the kitchen than it had been in the meltingly hot sun. And it didn’t help that Chris was standing right next to him in his tight t-shirt looking speculatively at the AC unit again.  
  
Chris put his hands on his hips and his elbow accidentally grazed Tom’s side, leaving a warmer trail along Tom’s already hot skin. The kitchen seemed awfully small all of a sudden. Tom pushed himself off the counter and stood aimlessly by the table. He sighed and wiped the sweat off his neck, rolling his head around a couple times to loosen his muscles and clear his mind.  
  
Chris made a hesitant noise in his throat, then sidled over towards the sink. He smiled endearingly at Tom. "Here, if you want, this’ll help cool you down." Tom noticed anew how Chris’s voice was deep and a little rough and his accent made everything he said sound just a touch sexier. Chris reached over and rustled his way into the ice bag, trying to extract an ice cube but finding they had fused together into a solid lump. He took the whole bag instead and banged it soundly on the edge of the counter a few times to loosen the ice. Tom flinched a little at the noise but came back and leaned back on the counter next to him to pretend it didn’t bother him.  
  
Chris put the bag down and worked an ice cube free. He held it in his hand and rubbed it with his thumb until it started to melt. "Turn around." Tom's eyebrows were lopsided again, making that little comma shape he couldn't help. He turned around with a nervous laugh. He could feel the extra heat of Chris's body right behind him and he made a tiny shriek when the ice touched the nape of his neck. Chris laughed. It was a nice laugh, ever a little bit softer than Tom expected from someone who seemed so masculine. Chris rubbed the ice cube along the top few knobs of Tom's spine. Chris was probably laughing because he was so skinny anyway.  
  
The ice cube melted away to nothing and Chris reached for another one. "That feels a bit better, doesn't it? That’s a pretty bad sunburn you’ve got there."  
  
The ice actually did make him feel better. The coolness and the water that dripped down his back in pleasantly chilled rivulets was lovely. It momentarily calmed the burn he hadn’t even realized was there. Tom felt himself relaxing under the smooth sensation of cold. This time Chris started at the base of Tom's spine, just above where his shorts sat loosely around his narrow hips. Chris rubbed the sliver of ice all the way up Tom's back under his shirt, letting it bump slightly over each vertebra. The motion was strangely soothing, and it felt tremendously good on his overheated body.  
  
Tom was thin enough that you could see the curve of his ribs a little bit through his childishly soft skin. He always thought he would fill out with age but it hadn’t happened yet, he still had that gangly teenaged look to him. As he wasn’t paying attention Tom gave an unconscious moan of pleasure at Chris's hands spreading the damp chill around on his back, pushing his shirt up as he worked his way towards Tom's shoulder blades, half rubbing ice and half a massage.  
  
"Ohh, that feels nice." Tom wanted to crane his neck around and look at Chris but he felt that would be awkward.  
  
"What's this?" Chris was fingering the tight hemp necklace Tom wore. Chris rolled it between his fingers and Tom could feel the string pulling against the skin of his neck. Chris was still standing directly behind him and part of Tom wanted to pull away and part of him just wanted to lean back into those big hands.  
  
"Oh, I dunno, it's nothing. I just like it." Tom was glad his back was to Chris so he couldn’t see the new flush on his cheeks.  
  
Chris didn’t bother to reply in words, he just hummed a little. Then his body pressed against Tom from behind and Tom tensed and jumped. Chris couldn’t really be coming onto him like that... But he was leaning around Tom for another ice cube from the bag on the counter. Tom leaned forward to let him reach, embarrassed by his sudden reaction.  
  
"Turn around, it feels nice on your chest too."  
  
"I can do it myself." Tom was blushing properly now. Chris was older than him and so handsome and so close. Tom had told himself he'd find a girlfriend after he moved out to Australia. He had gone out with some girls back in London. Once or twice. He even told himself he enjoyed going on dates and trading kisses. But with Chris standing next to him in the hot summer kitchen Tom had to shift his weight to try and distract from his arousal. That would be a fast and awkward end to his new life in Australia. Tom imagined himself sitting in his new empty bedroom, alone forever because he got a hard-on in front of his brand new neighbor.  
  
Tom decided he had to try and salvage the situation before it got totally out of hand. "Here give it to me.” He leaned back on the counter and reached out a hand for the ice Chris was holding. “Thanks though. I feel much better now."  
  
Chris didn't relinquish the ice cube. Instead he tilted his head and looked through the spray of hair that had fallen over one of his bright blue eyes. "Nah mate, you don't know how to do it. Here, I'll show you."  
  
He was just being friendly, Tom thought. Friendly Australians, that was a thing, right? He laughed again, a little more high-pitched than he intended. Chris just laughed too and put the ice cube right on the pulse point at the base of his neck. Tom tried to pull his head away a little, and to his surprise Chris took his other hand and ran it over the tiny wrinkles curving around the edge of Tom's smile in a gesture that was definitely a little more than friendly.  
  
Tom blinked heavily and laughed, ducking his head away from Chris's hand. The bag of rapidly melting ice cubes was directly behind him, and instead of letting him move Chris just leaned against Tom's chest and reached around behind him, pulling out a small handful of ice chips. For a second Tom could feel him breathing. When he found the ice he didn't back off, he just leaned enough to get his thick arms in between them and rubbed the ice shards in his palm against Tom's stomach, sliding his hands under his shirt again.  
  
Chris was still so close Tom could feel each breath blowing coolly over his protruding collarbone where his t-shirt was pulled aside. "Why don't you just take that off, Tom? You'll be cooler without it. Can’t be comfortable with that sunburn." Tom started to stutter a response but Chris was insistently pushing the hem of his shirt up. The thin grey fabric was damp and soggy from ice cubes and sweat. Tom didn’t really want to take his shirt off in front of Chris, because then he couldn't pretend that Chris hadn't noticed how skinny he was. He liked to think there was a little muscle there but as his mum always said he was mostly skin and bones and sunshine.  
  
Tom tried to hide the fact that he was breathing hard from something other than the daytime heat. He gulped and looked down at Chris’s hands rubbing cool patterns into his skin. While he was thinking Chris had pushed his shirt almost all the way to his neck, crinkling it up over his torso so his belly and chest were exposed. He could see the patches of sunburnt skin where his vest had been and his stomach was shockingly white in comparison. Chris’s tanned fingers looked even bigger because of the contrast with Tom’s smooth paleness.  
  
He heard Chris swallow as his broad fingers pushed upwards towards Tom’s small brown nipples. In a rush Tom realized that Chris was breathing hard too. He hadn’t seemed to notice the crushing heat at all but now he was flushed and his mouth was hanging slightly open. Tom could see the wet crescent of Chris’s tongue between his pink lips.  
  
Chris reached for another ice cube and this time he didn’t even pretend not to be leaning into Tom. Tom was pressed back into the counter, its beveled edge cutting into the small of his back but he was too astounded and aroused to move. Chris held the ice cube in his fingers gingerly, as if it might burn him. His gaze was locked down, away from Tom’s eyes as he slid it in small circles around Tom’s torso, sliding along where his ribcage flared with each tight breath. As he pushed it slowly up towards Tom’s chest, he looked up. Tom’s breath hitched when Chris met his gaze, and it stopped entirely when Chris rubbed the ice cube slowly over one of Tom’s hardening nipples.  
  
Chris’s expression was apprehensive, but there was dark excitement and desire underneath. Tom could hear how hard he was working to keep his voice carefully even. “Tom... I can go, if you want me to. I’ll leave if you ask.” But as he said it he leaned forward the slightest bit and Tom gasped because he could feel Chris’s erection pressing gently into his hip. It wasn’t fair. How could he think straight with Chris’s hands on him and when he knew Chris’s cock was right there, and fuck but it felt big.


End file.
